Some bands don’t just play songs—they conjure entire worlds. LA LOM (The Los Angeles League of Musicians) are one of them.

The Los Angeles trio cut their teeth playing marathon three-hour sets at the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel, turning cumbia, Peruvian chicha, boleros, soul, and rock ‘n’ roll into an irresistible soundtrack for dancers and dreamers alike.

Word spread. Millions of streams followed, along with a deal with Verve Records and sessions for tastemakers like KEXP. By the time they arrived at Fuji Rock’s Crystal Palace, their reputation had already outgrown the hotel lounge where it all began.

Even persistent rain couldn’t keep fans away. Festivalgoers trekked through the mud to the Field of Heaven, rewarded with one of the weekend’s most effortlessly cool performances.
Frontman Zac Sokolow, hair slicked back with pomade and dressed in bold primary colors, led the trio into “Maravilla” (“Marvelous”), setting the tone with a guitar sound soaked in spring reverb. His playing evoked another era—surf rock, vintage Latin records, spaghetti westerns—without ever feeling like an exercise in nostalgia.

Behind him, bassist Jake Faulkner locked into grooves that barely seemed to touch the ground, while percussionist Nicholas Baker stole scene after scene. Splitting time between congas and a drum kit, Baker was the band’s engine room, laying down hypnotic rhythms that shifted effortlessly from Colombian cumbia to Peruvian chicha, bolero, and full-throttle rock ‘n’ roll.

LA LOM are largely instrumental, letting their musicianship do the talking. Sokolow needed only a few words to command the crowd.”Hello! We’re so happy to be here! We are LA LOM from Los Angeles, California!”Then it was back to the music.

The Colombian standard “Los Sabanales” arrived with swagger and swing, while “El Cascabel” transformed the audience into part of the band. Sokolow and Faulkner stomped across the stage in flamenco fashion, igniting a wave of thunderous handclaps that rippled through the crowd.
Watching LA LOM, it was hard not to imagine them soundtracking a Quentin Tarantino film—or a long-lost David Lynch fever dream. Their music is cinematic without being self-conscious, always teasing another twist around the corner. Every tempo change raises the stakes. Every transition lands like a scene cut.

The trio can seemingly play anything. Though they hail from Los Angeles, their music traces a route through Mexico, Colombia, Peru, and beyond, stitching together decades of Latin American sounds with the swagger of American rock ‘n’ roll. It feels less like a history lesson than a joyride.

The set exploded into a ska-inflected finale powered by crashing cymbals, relentless conga rhythms, and razor-sharp guitar lines. By then, the crowd wasn’t just dancing—they were completely under LA LOM’s spell.

At its heart, LA LOM’s music is equal parts romance and menace. It swings, it shimmies, and just when you think you’ve settled into the groove, it throws another curveball. That’s what makes the trio so thrilling. They’re never simply playing songs.
They’re keeping you on the edge of your seat.